


velvet black

by venndaai



Category: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F, Light Angst, Light side ending, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 05:37:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1846324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venndaai/pseuds/venndaai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You don’t have to go," Revan had said, but she knew she did, so here she was. Holding a glass of something blue in fingers that felt ridiculously weak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	velvet black

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "What happened doesn't change anything." Originally posted on tumblr http://senatorcretak.tumblr.com/post/89694263055/what-happened-doesnt-change-anything

"You don’t have to go," Revan had said, but she knew she did, so here she was. Holding a glass of something blue in fingers that felt ridiculously weak. It had been decided that the celebratory party would be hosted by House Panteer, as Alderaan had been more or less untouched by the recent wars. In the setting sun, the long shadows cast by tall columns over the outdoor pavilion were fading into general gray. Everything was soft blues and purples, restful on the eyes, which Bastila appreciated as she struggled to keep a smile plastered on her face.

People approached her- military officials, politicians, heads of state, financiers, all the pillars of the Republic important enough to get an invitation. It was easy enough to tell how much they knew. Some greeted her as befit the Jedi Knight Bastila Shan, the pazaak card up the Republic’s sleeve, congratulated her as one should congratulate a war hero on her victory. Others came to stare at her, faces full of curiosity and wonder. They were the ones who knew a bit more, the ones who wanted to see what a double traitor looked like.

Someone touched her arm and she flinched, a quick reactive movement before she could catch herself. “Hey,” someone said, and she looked up at Carth, resplendent in full dress uniform, the lines on his face and premature gray in his hair for once conveying dignity rather than stress. He held out a full glass. “Trade?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to say anything, and they swapped.

"I think you’ve done your duty," Carth said. "It’s probably not too hard to disappear into this crowd. I’ll tell everyone you had to go meditate on important Jedi things."

Bastila wished, not for the first time, that Carth Onasi was a little less kind. To be honest, it seemed incredible, the man unable to reconcile a five-year-old betrayal so instantly ready to forgive and forget. She wished he’d been angry, that he’d refused to have anything to do with her. In a way, it would have made things easier.

"Thank you," she managed at last. He smiled at her, and she ran from that smile, stepping to the side and merging into the dark crowd of people.

Canderous Ordo was leaning against a marble rail, gazing out at the dark landscape of dramatic mountains and pine forests. He nodded at her when she approached.

"Funny, isn't it," he said, "me being at a Republican victory party. Things have changed, all right. But at least the drinks are good."

She stood next to him, put her drink down on the rail, rested her elbows on the marble. There was a cool dark breeze blowing across the valley, smelling of conifers and sharp fresh snow. 

"She’s down there," Ordo said, and gestured to the garden below, where a dark shape sat alone on a low bench. "I think she saw someone she recognized, and didn't want them recognizing her." He gave Bastila a significant look. She nodded, but it took her another minute to work up the courage to move. 

The garden was darker and colder than the platform. She sat down on the bench- hard stone- and immediately shifted to try and get comfortable. It didn't really work. “Hello,” she said into the darkness.

"Hello," said an echo back. 

Revan's voice was quiet, but still a little resonant, and above all warm. “Had enough of the party?”

Bastila’s hands clenched into fists. “This is wrong. All these people thanking me, when I was using the Force to break down their fleet, get their young soldiers killed-“

"You also saved their Republic."

"That was only my responsibility, after what I'd done. It was nothing heroic-"

"Bastila."

Silence. Her eyes adjusted to the blackness, and when she turned her head she could see Revan, staring into space, body tense.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Revan said, “Remembering.”

Bastila stayed still. She no longer thought Revan would hurt her, even with all her memories returned. Of course it was still possible that the Dark Lord might return, here in this fragrant lightless garden, and if that happened Bastila had no idea what she would do. She only knew that it was no longer possible for her to strike Revan down, if it really ever had been.

When Revan spoke again, it was in almost a whisper. 

“I can’t do this either,” she said. “I can’t smile and chatter at this triumph they’re throwing me when I know I have done the most reprehensible, vile things imaginable- whatever you have done, whatever lives you have taken, they are nothing compared to what I did to my own friends, to soldiers who trusted-” She stopped, and didn't continue. 

The last of the light had died, the stars had not yet risen, and the protection of the velvet darkness gave Bastila the courage to reach for Revan’s hand. The long fingers wrapped around hers, and they held tight to each other.

"Sometimes I feel apathetic," Revan said. "Like none of what we’ve done really changed anything. Like the force is taking the galaxy towards some inexorable end and all our efforts are just a butterfly flapping its wings against a hurricane. And I wonder if maybe- maybe these feelings come from the knowledge I have but still don’t remember."

"I can’t be your guide any more," Bastila said. "I'm as lost as you are. Probably more."

"Well," Revan said, "we’re in this tunnel together, maybe we can lead each other out."

She heard Revan move, felt her other hand come to rest on Bastila’s waist. 

_Nothing could make me feel safer-_

She pulled Revan towards her, and they slid off the bench together, into the cool, sweet darkness.


End file.
